


OF THE BEST (fic)

by ARTofOTK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Caning, Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Gen, Guilty James Bond, M/M, Protective James Bond, Punishment, Q Whump, Spanking, but Q is not weak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24996202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARTofOTK/pseuds/ARTofOTK
Summary: *follows the end of Spectre* ~ M (Mallory) decides that both Bond and Q need to face some consequences for disobeying his orders. Q gets a caning and Bond has to watch... Pretty much a "whipping boy" scenario, yeah! The punishment is true discipline (M's not getting his jollies from doing it) but there's some sexual tension between Bond and Q which might lead to something more explicit in the second or third chapter... ;)
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	OF THE BEST (fic)

Bond was sat in one of the two leather-upholstered chairs that faced Mallory’s desk. He’d been there for nearly an hour now, answering questions and describing what he’d been up to for the last several months, after driving off with Madeleine Swann. It wasn’t an exciting story, not even a particularly interesting one.

It had begun with a tenor of romance that faded as he and Swann attempted to settle into a life together. A surplus of issues came to light and he had parted ways with her after an embarrassingly short period, the decision mutual and anticlimactic. From there, he had spent a better amount of the time dallying about in the French countryside. He showed off the Aston Martin, charmed a few village girls, and he even tried to take up farming.

Then he had gotten absolutely sloshed one night and nearly killed himself in a dumb stunt to break from the tedium... It had been proven, once again, that retirement did not suit James Bond. Be it calm beaches or rolling hills, he’d much rather any place where he could take down a crime ring or two.

And so the story ended with his decision to become an agent again - well, his _desire_ to would be more accurate to say. In either case, he was back in England to discuss the matter with the Head of M16, Gareth Mallory.

Despite both men seeming relatively at ease, their discussion had grown tense. Mallory – or _M,_ Bond reminded himself - had yet to accept or deny his application for hire even though he had initially voiced the request a couple days ago over the phone. M had only said, “Come to my office on Tuesday, zero eight-hundred hours,” before hanging up.

Bond had expected a straightforward response as soon as he set foot in M’s office - hopefully along the lines of ‘welcome back’ or ‘here is your next mission’ - but he’d been told to sit down and explain himself instead. So, here he was, feeling a bit like he had as a schoolboy when he’d been called to the Headmaster’s office after cutting class too many times. Bond’s arse still twinged at the memory. He pushed it away, paying attention to M’s scolding tone.

“You’ve no idea how much of an effort it has been to reinstate the Double-O program after the mess of Spectre and Nine-Eyes. You did nothing to help after Blofield was arrested, so why do you think your return here would be welcome? Or help us continue to persevere?”

“You need me.” Bond answered, sounding more confident than he felt.

M wore an expression that was somehow severe and sympathetic at the same time. “I’ve said this before, Bond. It’s a young man’s game, and you’re nearing - ”

“Has someone replaced me?” Bond couldn’t help but grumble, “a new 007?”

“Don’t interrupt me,” M warned, then he sighed before giving a genuine answer, “No, Bond. It’s been determined that our vetting system requires additional scrutiny for all members, including field agents. As well, we need more time and funding for the training facilities. So, I’ll confess, we haven’t even begun to consider the resumes from potential recruits,” then M went on as though musing sadly to himself, “and it’ll take _years_ to prepare them. I swear, most of them don’t look old enough to buy a drink...”

Bond didn’t hide his smirk. “Then you need me. I can serve our country better than any number of those spotty faces.”

The corners of M’s thin mouth turned up as well, but he got a hold of himself. “Good heavens, Bond. All right, I’ll admit that I find it hard to revert to my original opinion of you before I became Head. You’ve made it quite evident that the standard age restriction is not a factor when it comes to you. If, as I hope, the Double-O program is to be sustained... then I do think your experience would be invaluable.”

“Then what is the problem... Sir?” A bit of brown-nosing couldn’t hurt, Bond thought.

M raised a brow before saying, “Even if you went through the examinations again and were declared fit for duty - physically _and_ mentally - I would still have a problem with reinstating you here.”

Bond frowned, back going rigid in his chair before he coolly inquired, “and _that_ would be?”

“I can’t trust you.”

Bond was taken aback. Did M think he had ulterior motives coming here? With a glower, he opened his mouth to argue - to defend himself! “After what I’ve -”

M cut him off, “Hush, Bond. I know you don’t mean to harm me, or M16. Not deliberately, anyway. You’re as patriotic as they come. However, you’ve made it clear that you do not respect orders – certainly not _my_ orders. I’m sure I do not need to remind you of these occasions.”

He didn’t. Bond knew what M was referring to, including his unauthorized mission to Mexico and then his eventful investigation into Spectre after being suspended from field duty.

M let him stew for a moment before continuing. “Now, I will not deny that your actions were what led to the fall of a dangerous organization, but such an outcome was _far_ from guaranteed by your choices. I need to be able to rely on my agents to follow my command, or at least keep me appraised of their reasons to the contrary,” then M sounded more sullen, adding, “I’m not some mindless brute of a leader, Bond... If you had told me about Blofield as soon as you found out, I could have helped earlier. And perhaps I could have detained Denbigh without having had to kill the man.”

Bond shifted in his seat, feeling somewhat rebuked now. M was a former Lieutenant Colonel in the SAS and had likely killed dozens of people, but he was a good man. Every life taken would affect his conscience, no matter the tally or nature of the victim. At this thought, Bond cleared his throat and uttered awkwardly, “I... I haven’t thanked you. For your help. For risking your life with us.”

M chose not to respond to that, though his expression softened in the moment of consideration before he spoke again, “You’re a bit of a paradox, Bond. As an agent, you demonstrate both extreme loyalty and rebellion. You’re disciplined, as demonstrated by your numerous skills and successes... but you lack discipline when it comes to authority. Perhaps you’ve always been this way, or perhaps time has been the culprit. In any case... _I will not have it.”_

Bond held his tongue, wanting to return a few taunts at M, but that would only support the validity of the man’s comments. He just hoped that this lecture wouldn’t go on much longer... or else he’d demonstrate just how undisciplined he could be.

“If you are to work at M16 again, you need to respect me. If not that, I need some assurance that you’ll at least do your best to respect my orders. Frankly, I need to have better control over you - or else I worry you’d just tip the balance toward being more of a liability than an asset. So, I’ve been considering... consequences...”

Bond scoffed, “You mean you want to punish me?”

“Yes, Bond, that’s indeed what I mean, and you’ll have to receive this punishment today before you work for me again. To clean your slate, so to speak... but I won’t be punishing you by the usual means. Suspending you doesn’t manage anything and I doubt adjustments to your rank or salary would have much of a positive effect.”

Bond couldn’t disagree. “So, what _punishment_ do you have in mind?” He had to stop himself from telling M that he’d accept whatever it was. It was best to be wary.

“Before I disclose that, there is one other contradiction I’d like to note about you.” M tilted his head, as if wanting to study Bond in more detail. “You demonstrate very well that you are a coldhearted killer but that is just one side to you, isn’t it? You’ve shown that you do have a tremendously _car_ _ing_ heart. Am I wrong?”

Perhaps it was the strange shift in conversion that led Bond to answer quick and sincerely, “You're not.” He wasn’t sure if M was referring to his lovers, or his friends, but he could not deny how protective he was over those he managed to become close to, which was only a small handful of people. Especially now that many had died.

“Then this may work.” Mallory pushed his chair back and opened a drawer. He took out a long piece of a wood with a curved handle and said,“I believe you and I must both be familiar with this from our school days, hm?” It was a cane.

Bond barked out an incredulous laugh, “You want to _cane_ me?” The idea was comical! What the hell was M thinking this would accomplish? Because, surely, he had read his history... How would a caning compare to the torture his bollocks went through? Even then, he had been able to laugh it off.

M put the implement on his desk and reached for his phone. “Well, no, not as such. I know how well you can handle physical pain. Now, give me a moment...” He lifted the receiver to his ear and pressed a button, waiting a few seconds before speaking into it, “Yes, you may tell him to enter now. Thank you.” He hung up and looked over Bond’s shoulder expectantly.

Bond turned his head, feeling anxious and utterly oblivious as to what M had planned here. The door opened and revealed a bespectacled young man with a nest of dark hair and an ill-fitting suit. It was Q... the quartermaster of M16.

This was the first time Bond had seen the boffin since convincing him to hand over the keys to the Aston Martin D35. He spared Bond a neutral glance, not seeming surprised by his presence, before shutting the door behind him.

M said, “Please, turn the lock.”

Q obliged and then walked to them, ignoring the empty chair on the right of Bond. He stood right in front of M’s desk and addressed him simply with, “Sir.” He sounded calm but Bond caught the tension in his shoulders, saw his fingers fidget at his sides. He immediately wondered if something unfortunate had happened in his lab.

Then Bond’s wits finally connected Q’s presence with all that M had been saying. He immediately stood up, rage stirring.

He let out a dangerous-sounding, “NO.”

M stood as well and scowled as he opened his mouth to retort, but Q spoke first.

“Might I have a moment to speak with him?”

After a moment of thought, M nodded and gestured with a wave of his hand that their conversation could be held away in private.

“Thank you, sir,” replied Q, and then he grabbed a hold of Bond’s sleeve and tugged him toward a distant bookshelf on one side of the large room. Bond let him and they wound up facing one another with Bond’s back to M. With his bulk in between, M could probably barely see the younger man.

“Q, he’s going to - ”

“I _know,_ 007... um, Bond, I should say. Sorry.” He sighed before continuing, “Yes, he’s going to cane me and he wants you to watch. We discussed it yesterday, and I... I agreed to my part.”

Bond’s eyes widened and he exclaimed, “Why _w_ _ould_ you, Q? He can’t abuse you just to punish _me!_ I’ll break his arms before that happens! _”_

Q rolled his eyes and Bond thought this had to be a dream. This situation was surreal, and awful, and ridiculous...

“You’ll do no such thing, Bond. This isn’t abuse.”

“Have you even been caned before? You must’ve still been in a nappy when they banned corporal punishment in the UK.”

“Oh, Christ, how young do you suspect I am? Well, all right, I’ve never been caned before but I’m sure I can handle it. I’m aware of my feeble looks but I’m not as weak as you think.”

Bond cringed. “I don’t think you’re weak, Q.”

“Then don’t fight this, don’t fight M! Not for me, anyway. In case you haven’t figured it out, this is _my_ punishment too and I’ll take it whether or not you accept your own. Perhaps M hasn’t told you, but I directly lied to him about your location when he asked me to track your smart blood. You were in Austria but I told him you were in bloody Chelsea! And then... I travelled to meet you there after telling him one of my cats was ill.”

Bond hadn’t known about Q having to hide his location from M. Guilt pooled in his gut, more trickling in when Q added, “He also knows I practically gifted you that Aston Martin.”

“I told you to erase the security footage, to say I _stole_ it!”

“Damn it, Bond! I really, _really_ hate lying to people.”

I scoffed and put on a derisive tone, “Well, if I’d known you were going to be such a - ”

“Please, listen to me... _James._ _”_

That shut him up.

“M’s told me that he’ll eventually look for a new quartermaster if I don’t do this.”

“That would be mad, Q, you’re a genius! He has to be bluffing.”

“Even so! I don’t want him to go on doubting my word and ability to follow orders, or to feel like I don’t respect him. If you care about me at all then you’ll stand down while I make amends and do my utmost best to preserve my career... and I know you _do_ care, at least enough that you don’t want to see me hurt.”

Q paused to chuckle and then mused, “Well, I suppose that’s why M’s decided that this would be an effective punishment for you. To just witness mine. Makes me a _w_ _hipping_ _b_ _oy_ , doesn’t it? It’s actually an astute idea, if rather archaic.”

“Q...”

“You’re a young prince in this scenario. You should be flattered.”

“Damn it, Q! You did all that for _me!_ It’s my - ”

Q cut him off, looking annoyed, “Don’t you _dare_ say it’s your fault! You seem to keep forgetting that I’m a grown man. Those decisions were my own, and I... I do not regret them.”

Bond felt warmed by this admission but it did nothing to ease his guilt.

“M can’t do this. He won’t.”

Q sighed, “He can and he _will..._ We cannot fault the Head of M16 for wanting us to face consequences of some kind. He feels betrayed, rightfully so. We may never feel as loyal to him as we did his predecessor... but we do have him to thank for us both not facing more serious penalties for our subterfuge. He‘s giving you a second chance, can’t you see? He deserves our respect! He certainly doesn’t deserve to be attacked by you in his own office, hm? Now, you have two choices here. Either leave this office and never work for M16 again. Or reign yourself in and stay a while, then we can both go on protecting England... Either way, I am getting this caning.”

Bond stared at Q for a while, exasperated, then he let out a breath and asked, “Do you want me to stay?” The edge was gone from his voice.

Q grinned and admitted, “I would prefer that, yes. It hasn’t been the same without you here... Where’s the fun in undamaged equipment?”

That warm feeling again. A little stronger this time.

“I’m not sure I can stand watching you get beaten.”

Q gave another roll of his eyes and said admonishingly, “You make it sound as if I’ll be enduring torture, but this is nothing so honourable. I’ll practically be getting spanked like a naughty boy. So...” He trailed off.

Both of them were about the same height and Bond wondered if Q had perhaps seen his pupils dilate. Those green eyes blinked in surprise behind his glasses, then the corners of them wrinkled in amusement.

“Oh, _well..._ I should’ve known better than to have used that analogy. I’ve listened in on enough of your bedtime conquests to understand that you are quite fond of a good smack on the bottom.”

Those last few words sounded absurd coming from Q’s mouth, but Bond felt himself flush. And not from anger this time.

Q tilted his head, “Actually, we ought to work with this. While I do want you to accept your punishment, I would actually hope for you suffer from it as little as possible. In all honesty, I don’t need you to pity me or to be racked with guilt and anger. That would help neither of us, all right? As well, you’ve got quite enough of that to deal with for a lifetime, hm? So, if my upcoming ordeal can be, um... _appealing_ , then do take advantage. My figure may not be to your tastes, but perhaps just the position, or noises... Well, whatever elements you can enjoy, feel free to. I won’t disapprove. Of course, don’t let M - “

“Gentlemen!” M called, “I’ve spared enough time. What’s your decision, Bond?”

Q stepped away from Bond to face M and said, “He’ll stay, sir.”

Bond was glad Q answered for him. His mouth had fallen open and he felt lightheaded, a little jarred. Was Q suggesting he get off on seeing him punished? Bloody hell, he was! Bond felt offended, but strangely grateful.... and admittedly a bit aroused by the idea.

Well, the boffin’s ideas usually worked, so why wouldn’t this one?

“Is this true, Bond? You’ll accept the conditions of your punishment?”

Bond shut his mouth and turned around to reply, “Yes...” It came out too husky and he cleared his throat before trying again, “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” M walked over to the chair that Bond had been sat in and moved it further away from the desk. Then he instructed, “Bond, sit here and control yourself. I want you to stay put and stay quiet - _not_ _a_ _word -_ until I allow you to speak. Q, come to me please.”

Bond and Q walked back toward the desk, side by side. When Bond sat down he felt a touch on his arm and heard Q whisper, almost too quietly, “Thank you, James,” before continuing his way.

Considering his conflicting thoughts and heightened nerves, Bond felt as though he were preparing for a difficult mission. It was beyond absurd! All he had to do was sit and watch, for God’s sake. Well, with Q’s instructions in the mix, he had to enjoy the show, too.

 _Fuck..._ Why couldn’t M have just sent him to take down a crime ring or two?

(=Y=) **TBC** (=Y=)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to stop it there! No caning at all yet, boo, but I hope the setup has been intriguing enough... Please let me know your thoughts! :) To tide you over while I finish up the next chapter, here are a couple 'Bond-spanks-Q' fics I'd recommend! ♥  
> [ **A Fit of Temper**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762485) by [**FicwriterJet**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FicwriterJet)  
> [ **Research and Development Devices**](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10501449/1/Research-and-Development-Devices) by [**VictorianChik**](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/791133/VictorianChik)  
> 


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